


Dragon Age: The Lost Shem

by SNDafa



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, Fantasy, Gen, Multi, Other, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2018-12-01 23:16:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11496834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SNDafa/pseuds/SNDafa
Summary: Trevelyan. Lavellan. Cadash. Adaar. Members of these family lines were all affected by the current warring in Thedas. Each one with an interest in seeing the end of of the bloodshed between templars and mages, for good or ill.It was said that one of these four came into a power unlike any other. That they used it to lead a powerful organization, and banish a great evil.They lied. That power went to someone elseAnd no one knew his name.





	1. Nameless

A chained man awakes in a chantry dungeon. The smell of steel and dirt were the first to reach his senses, as was the taste of copper. He’d been blooded, but he couldn’t recall how. His vision was blurry, but cleared up as seconds flew by. He found himself staring at a heavy plank of wood that binded his hands. The plank itself was chained to the floor. Overkill for a human, he thought. Maybe that was the point.

His view expanded to a contigent of guards that blocked his sight past a single door. There were more behind him; their voices filled his ears just as quickly as his vision corrected itself. He could hear their resentment. Their anger. Their fear. He knew not of what he did to make them feel so.  
The man began deducing his situation. For all intents and purposes, he was a prisoner, living on borrowed time. Whatever they thought he did, it was serious enough to bring the wrath of the faithful down upon him, but not enough to kill him outright. The plank binding his hands, the chains binding the plank, and the horde of guards with swords trained on him? They were there to keep him for one thing.

Interrogation. They wanted him to explain something he knew nothing about.

At that moment, he resigned himself to death.

He could not account for the past few hours of his life, no matter how hard he tried. And it was not as if the memory was just beyond his grasp. It was simply gone; A blank spot in his mind, or a wall he couldn’t tear down. The last thing he remembered before waking up in the hands of chantry soldiers was telling his friend that they would depart at sunrise. Anything after that was lost to the fade.

 

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, hung his head, and awaited his fate. The guards cleared the door, and within seconds, they were pushed open. A loud bang rung against the stone walls as two women entered the room. The man never opened his eyes.

Four rapid steps, then two more sounded in front of him. One of the guards spoke out. “He’s awake.” they said. The footsteps began to circle him, slowly, as if the person it belonged to was scanning him, trying to find out what kind of man he was. He didn’t falter. There was no reason to, since there was nothing else he could do.

As if to pressure him into changing his tune, the owner of the circling footsteps approached him. The wind of her breath was close enough to feel on his ear. “Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now.” The woman demanded. There was barely contained anger in her voice, not unlike the guards detaining him. “The Conclave is destroyed.” The woman continued as she circled in front of him. “Everyone who attended is dead…Except for you.”

 

He had no answer. He knew that before she asked. So he remained silent.

 

His silence punched a small hole in whatever was keeping the woman’s rage at bay. She grabbed his left hand, raised it to his closed eyes, and enunciated the words “Explain this.”  
As if on cue, a green light burst from the palm of his hand. It matched the color of his own eyes, which were now open to see what he never saw before. His brows furrowed, and he muttered to himself, stunned by what was illuminating the entire room. He looked back down to the floor, knowing that there was nothing he could say to placate her.

“Can’t.” He said, lightly shaking his head. The grip on his hand tightened the second he did, and the woman leaned forward.

“What do you mean, ‘you can’t?’ “ the woman said through clenched teeth.

The prisoner’s voice had a certain…feature. When he spoke, the tone of it would make most people look at him as dismissive and arrogant, despite whether or not he was intending to be so. There was a light gruffness to it as well, which did nothing to help. Everyone he spoke to – for good or ill – usually came away with a bad impression. The more violent patrons responded…Less than favorably. The man knew this well.

So when he told the woman holding his hand, in his given voice, that he had no idea what the light was, or its origins, he was rewarded with a shot to the bridge of his nose.

“YOU’RE LYING!” She yelled. The other woman who entered pulled her back before anymore damage could be done.

“We need him, Cassandra!” She said. Cassandra clenched her teeth. The outline of her jaw defined itself as she did.

Before the other woman could speak, the man, who remained in the same position he’d always been in – even after being punched – corrected her.

“You don’t.” He said. All eyes fell on him.

“If I’m the man you think I am, I’d be the make of someone who took his secrets to the grave. You get nothing from that but a body.”

Cassandra and her comrade moved closer to him as he continued.

“If I’m telling the truth, then I’m just a man. In the wrong place, at the wrong time. Whatever was done to me rendered me incapable of remembering it. You get nothing from that, either.”

 

The man lightly shrugged. “I can’t help you. And if the price for that is death, then I’d rather you got it over with. I’m not long for this world, anyway.”

 

The words of their prisoner perplexed them. If he was guilty, he didn’t carry himself as a man who thought he’d won. And if he was innocent…One would think he’d build a better case for himself.

Cassandra looked to her comrade, and slightly shook her head, confused as to what they were dealing with. The feeling was shared, as the other woman returned her gaze, then looked back to their prisoner.

“If you remember nothing of the Conclave…” The woman began. “Perhaps you can tell us where you were before it.”

Before the prisoner could answer, the footsteps of another approached the room. Cassandra turned her head to find another man, with a look of annoyance upon his face. It would soon be replicated by her.

 

“Leave.” Cassandra commanded. “Now.”

The guest ignored her, and instead offered a set of words that made him the center of focus in the dungeon.

“I know who he is.” The guest said. This was news to everyone except Cassandra, who blinked rather apathetically at the revelation.

“So you’ve said.” She replied flatly.

“His name is Abraham.” The guest continued. “He’s a friend of a friend. He came here to –”

 

The guest’s explanation was cut off by the sight of a slow stream of blood flowing from Abraham’s nose. It infuriated him.

“What did you do to him!?” The guest shouted, and attempted to aid the prisoner. He was stayed by Cassandra’s hand, which was promptly swatted away.

“You have no right!” The guest said to her. The notion nearly sent Cassandra into a full blown rage.

“Justinia is dead.” Cassandra said back. She closed the distance between her and the guest until she was inches away from him. “I have every right!”

“IT’S NOT HIS FAULT.” The guest shouted. The tension between the two was reaching a boiling point, and Cassandra’s comrade knew it.

 

“Adam.” She called out to the guest. “Can you tell us why you think that?”

 

Adam’s eyes shot to her, then back to Cassandra. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and turned to the woman to explain. “He didn’t even want to come here; he didn’t care about the Conclave. The only reason he did was because my friend asked him to.”

“And where is this friend?” The woman asked. And when she did, Adam’s eyes fell to the ground, his face softened with sadness.

“If she was where I think she was… Then she’s dead. Along with everyone else.”

 

“Rather convenient, is it not?” Cassandra said accusingly. The statement gained her a exasperated look from Adam, but he decided arguing with her was pointless.  
“People are saying the explosion left a mark on his hand.” Adam said – rather slowly – to Cassandra. “If there’s a chance – even a small one – that the mark’s capable of stilling the tear in the sky, Bram is worth more to you alive than dead.”

He wasn’t wrong. And there was a small part of her that knew that, even if Bram was guilty, he possessed the only means of stopping the current crisis. Her hands were more or less tied. She inhaled sharply, and turned to her comrade.

“Go to the forward camp, Leliana.” She said. “I will take…Abraham… to the rift.”

Leliana departed, as did a small number of the guards in the room. Cassandra removed a key from her person, and kneeled before Abraham to free him from the chains, but not the plank. A precaution, of course – the people outside the chantry contained much more vitriol than she did, and believed wholeheartedly that Bram was responsible. She did as well. But she was not without reason.

“You should tell him what he’s about to face.” Adam suggested as he folded his arms. Cassandra lifted Bram from his knees, and began to lead him out of the dungeon.

 

“It will be easier to show him.”


	2. Revelations, Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newly titled "Abraham" remains a mystery for the Hands of the Devine, as foreign to them as the tear in the sky.
> 
> But as they move to still it, they will come to know one thing: Abraham is not their friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve got no real idea how many parts I’m going to make out of this chapter. Suppose it’s however long it takes to cover the prologue of the game.
> 
> And Bram – the custom Herald of Andraste that I made for this story? He’s an asshole. You’re probably not going to like him much for the foreseeable future.  
>  \--------------------------------------

The gust of fresh air did nothing for Bram when he emerged from the chantry to find dozens of accusing eyes trained on him. It was just Cassandra’s presence that kept them at bay.

Bram knew this, so his focus wasn’t on them. It was on the green, transparent light in front of him. Bram followed the trail to the sky, and it was then that he saw what everyone condemned him for.

 

“We call it the Breach.” Cassandra informed him. “It is a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour.”

“There’s a reason for the name.” Adam added. “There’s more rifts, but none as big as that one.”

“All of them were caused by the explosion at the Conclave.” Cassandra finished.

 

Bram’s eyes remained on the tear as it bled into Thedas. His right brow twitched – a small tell of inward thought. “And I’m the only one who walked?”

Adam shrugged lightly, and shook his head. “They were as thorough as can be, given the circumstances. If anyone else survived, they didn’t find them.”

 

Bram accepted most of that line. Or at least, as much as he could without seeing for himself. It was because of that that he let hope linger at the back of his mind, to tell him that his charge escaped the blast, if it was too much to endure. It wasn’t impossible – he had done the same. But that train of thought would reach no destination if he let himself sink into it. Wouldn’t have been able to anyway, as he was reminded of the urgency of the matter when a sharp, increasing pain took hold of his left hand, where the mark resided. 

The sensation nearly brought him to his knees. Bram stood his ground, and closed his eyes to focus on numbing the pain, but his suffering was plain to see.

 

“Each time the Breach grows, the mark expands.” Cassandra told him. “And it is killing you.”

He gathered as much. There was a reason he lived when everyone else died.

“It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time.” Cassandra urged.

 

Bram’s jaw clenched. He took a deep breath, and opened his eyes to find the Seeker staring back at him. The look on her face only reinforced the words she spoke. “So why are we still here?” Bram said. Cassandra turned to the gate leading to the temple, and began backtracking towards it. No signal was needed – Bram and Adam soon followed.

Cassandra got ahead of them enough that Adam felt safe in talking with Bram through relative whispers. Even still, his eyes were planted at the back of her head as he spoke.

 

“How bad is it?” He asked.

“I’ll live.” Is what he got.

He wasn’t a social person. Adam understood that now.

 

“Llynn and I are close friends.” He went on. “I don’t know if she ever told you about me, bu–”

“She did.”

“Oh? Well…You know why I’m here.” Adam looked off to the crowd – who still had their eyes on Bram – for a small moment.

“What I don’t get is why she brought you. You wanted nothing to do with this, right? Why didn’t you skip town?”

“Because I made her a promise.” Bram answered. “And distance means nothing to something that teleports.”

 

Their conversation was cut short by Cassandra’s order for the gates to open, and they increased their pace to be with her when she moved though them. It was at this point that she unshackled Bram completely, telling him that there will be a trial once this was over.

They had gone over half the road to the next checkpoint before the Breach pulsed once more – both in the sky and on Bram’s hand. He stopped hard, and grunted loud enough that Adam and Cassandra took note. 

Cassandra’s past words were not lost on Adam; “with each passing hour,” She said. It had been mere minutes since the last pulse. This knowledge worried him.

“Come.” Cassandra said, and cocked her head towards the checkpoint as she moved to it. “We cannot waste time.”

 

Both men followed, but Adam’s caring for his newfound “friend” pushed him to ask questions regarding his condition.

“Seeker,” He began, “You never told us how he survived. What happened?”

Her knowledge of the fact came from reports of the men that found him. She did not see the event herself, which made her tone – the tone one would normally take when they’re beyond skeptical – all the more believable.

“They said he stepped out of a rift…Then fell unconscious.” Cassandra said back. “There was also a woman behind him, but no one knows who she was.”

 

Adam waited for her to say more, and a look of confusion and exasperation took hold of him when she didn’t. “That’s it?” Adam asked. “He fell out of a tear and went to sleep?”

The tone he took with her answer irritated Cassandra. “We can discuss it after the immediate threat is over.” She told him, and signaled for the next gate to open.

 

The three barely crossed the bridge ahead of them before a greenlit fade “meteor” crashed into it, sending everyone and everything careening to the ice below. It was through luck that they fell on the same side, though it was very little, for the next salvo of meteors carried more than emeralds.

Demons emerged from the remains; shadows cloaked in rags, roaring to make their presence known. These creatures were known to drain the living. Feed on their psyche until there was nothing left of it, or them. Something they all knew.

 

Cassandra regained her stance first, and drew her blade to charge. “Stay behind me!” She shouted, but they were far from helpless.

A few crates of supplies managed to fall to their side as well, and Adam took note of it as soon as Cassandra engaged the shades. Lady luck was especially kind to him, for a bundle of staffs lay untangled in the wooden debris.

 

Adam was no pushover, but he was a mage; most of his combat experience lay in the manipulation of energies drawn from the fade. While it was vast, it was a trade off for what he could do physically – both offensively and defensively. And that made him a target for whatever decided to get close.  
A part of him hated that – not being able to physically help. But so long as he could, he would do so – and his opportunity came in the form of a shade that attempted to blindside Cassandra as she slew one of its comrades.

Its attempt failed, of course. Before it could, a wall of flame sprung around Cassandra like a shield, igniting the shade’s talons when it touched it, and engulfing it soon after. Its shrill alerted Cassandra, who turned to behead it before it could recover. Its head turned to ash when it fell, as did the rest of its form.

Cassandra felt the warmth of the flames when they were willed into being, and immediately turned to the men she was escorting to find the culprit. To her relief, her protector was a man she knew to be a mage. As Adam stepped forward however, her relief turn into horror, as his leaving Bram’s side left him a vulnerable target. And the shades capitalized on it.

One emerged from the ice behind Bram, and raised its hand to strike him down. With Cassandra as the only witness, she called out to him, that he could live long enough to prove he was innocent.

 

But she did not have to, as she soon discovered.

 

Before its claws could draw flesh, Bram gripped onto its arm, and bisected it with a single right hand chop. Before it could react to the sudden pain, Bram cut through its torso twice, and severed its head from its body. He kicked away the remains as they fell to ash.

He was not done. With that same hand, he made a throwing gesture toward Adam and Cassandra – as if he’d ejected a spear from his wrist. It didn’t become apparent to the two until what he was throwing formed into existence; a stone spike, large enough – and strong enough – to drill through either one of their skulls.

They dodged the attack, but they soon learned that it wasn’t for them. Cassandra followed the course of the spike to its destination; into the face of ambushing shade, who collapsed almost as soon as it was viewed.

He had saved their lives. But how he did it unsettled Cassandra. And she let him know it.

 

The edge of her blade fixated on her charge, who she now knew – like Adam – was also a mage. But one she’d never seen before.

“Dispel your magic!” Cassandra commanded. “NOW.”

Her sudden hostility – at least as Adam perceived it – nearly infuriated him.

“Seriously!?” He said to her. “He just saved our lives, and you mean to cut him down!?”

“How are you to know?” Cassandra argued back. “That attack could’ve killed us both!”

 

As much as he wanted to refute that, he couldn’t. Had they not moved when they did, they would’ve surely become unintended victims – a thought that perplexed even him. His brows briefly furrowed, and he looked to Bram to hopefully provide a better case than he could.

But Bram did not care about placating someone he had no love for.

“Let me ask you something.” He dismissively began. “Do you want to die?”

Cassandra’s grip on her blade tightened, but before she could respond, Bram continued.

 

“Because that is exactly what’s going to happen if I don’t get to that Breach – you said it yourself.”

Bram intentionally walked into striking distance of Cassandra, almost daring her to cut him down by action alone.

“I could care less if you trust me. I don’t trust you.”

He pressed his chest onto the point of her sword.

“But you’ve got to be pretty fucking dumb to kill your only shot at taking that thing down. Tell me. Are you that stupid?”

 

Poking the bear, as it were. From this, and the small talk he had with him prior, Adam had learned that Bram had no tolerance for other people, least of all authority. From his limited interaction with Cassandra, he gathered that she was prone to violence. Taunting her might have lit a very small fuse.

 

Or it would have been the case, were Cassandra the woman Adam hoped she wasn’t.

 

Her interaction with Adam told her he meant well. He was overly concerned for what he believed to be his last friend in Thedas. Or a link to one thought lost.

Her interaction with Bram did him no favors. Not to Thedas. Not to the people of Haven or the survivors of the Conclave. Especially not to her. For Cassandra’s tale was rife with the men she now perceived him to be.

But he did have a point; it would be detrimental to her cause if she had slain him there. And if he intended to do the same, it would’ve been easier to let the shade take them. While she had concerns of his allegiance, it would need to wait until the Breach was sealed. After which…only time would tell.

 

Cassandra moved her blade from his chest and sheathed it. Her eyes never left her charge.

“Adam. Go help Leliana.” She said.

“Why?” He asked. “She has men, y-you need me here.”

“No, I don’t.” Cassandra replied. “And neither does he.”

 

After Bram’s display, he was in no position to argue. He wanted to tell her to keep him safe – that if anything happened to him, he would hold her accountable. He was rather prepared for it. His mistake – he learned – was assuming that Bram was anything like him.

With his loss apparent, Adam turned for the hills. He stopped just short of it to ask one final question.

“What do you want me to tell her?”

Cassandra’s eyes remained locked onto Bram’s, halfway expecting him to charge her the second she looked away. With an elevated voice, she responded.

“That we will be there soon.”

 

With this, Adam departed. When he was out of view, Cassandra took a step forward to Bram, her composure regained.

“You will stay ahead of me and in view at all times.” Cassandra instructed. “If there are demons, I will handle them. You’ll not raise your hand again. Am I clear?”

Bram lightly shook his head. “You do know I’m going to disregard this the second you fail, right?”

“For your sake, I hope you do not.” Cassandra said, and cocked her head to the road forward.

 

“Move.”


	3. Revelations, Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was said the four members of four family lines were potentials for the power that shook Thedas.
> 
> But while none of them held this power, they did survive it. And they fought alongside the one who wielded it.  
> \------------------------------------------------

Adam, Bram and Cassandra were not the only ones of note that were fighting through the chaos. The Conclave attracted many a people, most of which were some form of combat ready. There were four of them -- ways ahead from Adam -- that fit this definition.

One was an elf. A bald one, with the look of a solitary traveler about him. He bore no marks of the Dalish, and his clothes told passerby that he lived in no established cities, especially human ones. Like Adam, he carried a staff. And it was used to box in the first of their assailants with a wall of ice.

The other one was a dwarf. There were two of them, actually, but this one was male.

In appearance, he was in direct contrast to the elven mage. Most of what he wore was laced or adorned with gold, if it wasn’t jewelry outright. But the real jewel was not his attire. It was his weapon.

It was a repeating crossbow of dwarven engineering, and a powerful one to boot. It was used to slay any demon that preferred to attack at range, and at one point pinned one to the crumbling walls surrounding them.

Its head was then sliced off by a hatchet; the work of the second dwarf.

One look at the female would tell any who viewed her that she was a shifty one. Her attire was fit for a person that did not want to be seen, complete with a hooded cloak and a retractable leather mask. She had vials strewn along her belt, presumably to aid in being a shadow. They wouldn’t be much use to her at the moment.

Her coat and pants were lined with throwable weapons, which was where the aforementioned hatchet spawned. She felt no need to retrieve it just yet; the course to it was too dangerous. For now.

To rectify that, she set her sights the demon before her; a sickly looking creature with elongated limbs, a gaping maw and numerous eyes. It was attempting to “flee” through a portal in the ground. Not on her watch.

The dwarf removed daggers from the inside of her coat, and flung it at the demon’s palms as they touched the cold floor. The screech from the pain nearly deafened the soldiers defending with her.

They would be relieved, fortunately, as a large bladed weapon -- akin to a cleaver -- divided its head in two. Its body went limp almost immediately.

The cleaver was pulled from the corpse by a hulk of a woman, with silver hair, ashen skin, and horns curling from her skull. One of Thedas would call her a qunari. She does not respond to it.

Of all the defenders, she was the one that wore the most armor, but still the least. The heaviest of greaves and tassets -- adorned with red and green sashes, poultices and vitaar -- had clothed her, but failed to slow her down. Her torso and face was covered mostly in ceremonial paint. Or at least, that is what the others assumed.

With the wave of demons felled, she was to first to break silence. “We’re not going to be able to keep this up.” She said, and turned her eyes to the source: a small rift, suspended in the sky above them. 

The female dwarf was not convinced the ox-woman’s worry was genuine. “C’mon.” she prodded. “You act as if you’re not enjoying this.”

 

She was rewarded with a small laugh, and a maybe. “We still need reinforcements.” She added, as she checked for casualties.

Two men were killed in this wave. From the initial twenty that engaged the demons, only five of them survived. Their bodies were carried away from battle radius, so they could be properly tended to, should they survive the current onslaught.

“Aren’t your mercenary buddies nearby?” The male dwarf said as he performed short maintenance on his crossbow.

 

“Shokrakar took the men to help at the forefront.” The ox-woman said as she laid the last man in line. “Its worse there than it is here.”

 

“Well,” The female dwarf said, shrugging. “Least we have a mage handy.” The sentence earned her a look from the short glance from the elf.

 

Before he could respond, his eyes caught the appearance of another approaching the site. It was Adam, who looked no worse for wear after leaving his last party, even though he was visibly exhausted.

 

“Two, in fact.” The elven mage said, alerting the others to Adam’s presence. The ox-woman moved to greet him.

 

“Trevelyan.” She said. “Thought you were back at Haven.”

 

After catching his breath, Adam cleared his throat and responded. “I just left there. I’m headed to the forward camp to give news to the Left Hand.”

“And that news is...?” The ox-woman said, trailing off to allow Adam to finish for her.

 

“That the Right is on her way there with the prisoner.” He went on. “They may be right behind me.”

“Well, why aren’t they with you?” The male dwarf asked. Adam lightly shook his head.

 

“The uh...Prisoner...Abraham? He’s not the most friendly person.” Adam said. He motioned behind himself as he continued. “He did something that made the Seeker want to send me ahead.”

“This is that Pentaghast lady, right?” The female dwarf asked, to which Adam nodded. Her brows heightened briefly, and a small smile crept upon her face. But she wasn’t happy in the slightest.

 

“You want company?” She said with a pep. The question caused the ox-woman to turn in her direction. Her expression was one of disappointment.

 

“Really?” She said flatly, and the dwarf began to explain.

 

“Look, the guy’s winded. Probably from tangling with demons. He’s gonna need a quicker, safer way to deliver his message, and sneaking past hostile shit is kind of what I do.”

“Then there’s that small issue with the fact that I’m not supposed to be here. If that lady’s anything like I heard, I don’t wanna be here when she shows up.”

 

“Eh. Can’t say I blame her.” The male dwarf said with a chuckle.

 

“Go, then.” The ox-woman said, in compliance. “We’ll stay here, wait for them to show.”

 

The female dwarf motioned for Adam to follow her to an unbeaten path, and they were soon out of view. The ox-woman, the male dwarf, the elven mage and the five soldiers remaining had then steeled themselves for the next wave. As they waited for the rift to surge open once more, one of the soldiers spoke out.

 

“We can’t fight them like this.” He said. Worry lined his voice. “We need a plan!”

 

“The plan is ‘don’t panic’.” The ox-woman said. And almost immediately after, the rift opened again.

 

This time, it had spawn three wraiths, two terror demons, and five shades. All three wraiths fired upon the party, but the blasts were absorbed by the ox-woman’s cleaver. This method of defense was interpreted as a moment of weakness by one of the shades, who immediately dove towards the woman, claw first. 

It was a boon for her that the demons were either incapable of learning, or could not apply what they did learn into their strategy, as they failed to realize she suffered no hinderance in speed. Her weapon was quickly spun into the the protruding arms -- and face -- of the shade that charged her, almost instantly turning it into dust.

 

The remaining dwarf took cover aside nearby debris, and provided cover fire for the soldiers that followed the woman into battle. When one of the wraiths attempted to punish him for it, they were met with a speedy bolt to their would be chest. The force caused it to dissipate quickly.

 

The terror demons were split in their focus; one was attending to the five soldiers trying to keep it at bay, the other was closing the distance on the elven made that sheltered them in barriers. When the elf realized the demon planned to spring from beneath him, he redirected some of his energies to propel him backwards, chilling the wind as he did. A large ice spike was forced from the orb atop his staff, and lay in wait for the demon to leap from the portal that formed. When it did, the spike was sent straight into its chest, forcing it into the four shades behind it.

 

The shades -- who were engaged in battle with the ox-woman -- barely had time to recuperate. Almost immediately after gaining their ground, stones the shape of razors cut into them, rendering them no different from the rags they wore. At this time, the terror demon managed to repel the soldiers that held it back. But instead to taking them, or the ox-woman, the demon turned to the one who felled its comrades.

 

Behind them all, from a ledge of an upward road, stood Abraham. He jumped from the ledge to level ground, and the terror demon instantly lunged for him. It would get no retribution however, as the heel of Bram’s boot, glazed in flame and conjured blades, sunk into the torso of the grotesque creature. He flipped himself, using the demon’s momentum against it to send it flying to the ledge from which he came. It was there that it was cleaved in two; the work of Seeker Cassandra, who wasted no time in joining the fight.

 

Her blade was driven into the spine of one of the wraiths trading fire with the dwarf. Before the other could retaliate, the blade crescented vertically into its head, expelling it just as quickly as the other.

 

With all the demons felled again, Bram turned his focus to the rift that spawned them. Before he could truly register what he was seeing, the elven mage took hold of his left hand, and aimed it directly toward it.

 

“Quickly!” He shouted. “Before more come through!”

 

In an instant, the light emanating from the rift surged into his hand, and rippled violently, before collapsing on itself in exploding fashion. Bram swung his hand away from the elven mage’s grasp, unsure of what just transpired.

 

“The hell did you do?” He asked accusingly. The mage smiled in return. “I did nothing.” he said. “The credit is yours.”

 

He understood now. His refusal to voice such, however, prompted the mage to continue on.

 

“Whatever was responsible for The Breach also placed that mark on your hand.” The mage explained. “I theorized that the rifts it spawned could be closed by using it.” He looked towards the area where the rift had once been. “And it seems I was correct.”

 

Cassandra approached the mage and Bram, her brows lowered in thought. 

 

“Meaning it could also close the Breach itself.” She said to the mage questioningly. “Perhaps.” was his answer, as he looked to Bram. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation.”

 

It was not a notion that excited Bram. He half hoped that he’d be unable to help, as the opposite meant more scrutiny from those he was trying to avoid. He grinded his teeth in annoyance.

 

“And here I thought we’d be ass deep in demons forever.” The dwarf said as he approached. He placed the crossbow on his back just as soon as the ox-woman stepped forward as well. Now, he thought, was the time for introductions.

 

The dwarf gestured towards Bram in greetings. “Varric Tethras.” He said. “Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally...” He turned to Cassandra and winked. “Unwelcome tag along.” The seeker grimaced slightly in response.

“I am Solas, if there are to be introductions.” The elven mage said next. “I am pleased to see you still live.”

The ox-woman was next, and the quickest. “Vess Adaar.” She said. “Mercenary.”

She then turned to Cassandra. And cocked her head towards the road Adam left on. “You just missed Trevelyan and Cadash.”

“Cadash?” Cassandra asked quizzically.

“Another dwarf. Carta spy -- came along to see what would happen to the lyrium trade.” Vess explained as she sheathed her cleaver. “Fought with us a for a while before she left to escort Trevelyan to the forward camp. Which is were we need to be.”

“Agreed.” Cassandra said, but before she could continue, Varric had spoke up.

“Suppose you could use Bianca’s help getting through the valley.” He said aloud, specifically so that Cassandra woul hear it. He was given the exact response he was expecting.

 

“Not you.” She said as she turned to him. “Your help here was appreciated, bu--”

 

“Are you really going to tell someone else to not fight?” Bram cut her off, slowly turning his head to her as he spoke. “How well did that work out a few minutes ago?”

 

While Varric’s shifted to Bram, Cassandra lowered her head, and closed her eyes to suppress her anger. The party remained silent.

When Cassandra’s eyes reopened, she scanned the area. The road she intended to take had been blocked by large stones and fallen trees, complimented with fire. Clearing it would take more time than they had. So she turned to the gap in the stone walls, that led out into a frozen body of water. 

 

“We’ll move through here.” She said. And with her order, Vess moved to prepare the remaining guards for the journey. Solas and Varric were the first to clear the gap. Vess, the soldiers she commandeered and Bram left soon after.

Cassandra found herself in deep, but brief thought; what would she do with Bram, should he be successful in closing the Breach? While it seemed his “willingness” to help seemed genuine, time and again he has shown his contempt for the people he choose to serve. And she believed that, had her men not found him before he woke up, it was highly unlikely that they would’ve ever found him at all.

He would call his servitude forced, if asked. And he would not be wrong; If it came to it, she would have dragged his unconscious body to the Breach to suppress it, then executed him immediately after. Trevelyan’s vouching for him was the only thing keeping her from considering that, or any other harsh judgement she could conjure.

She relented on this thought, however. It was not her intention to guess the psyche of a man she cared nothing of. This was a mystery she knew she was never going to solve.

 

“Ugh.” She exclaimed, and pushed ahead.


	4. False Herald, Lonesword

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this story, the Herald of Andraste and the Inquisitor are not the same person.

There are billions of faces in this world, each one different by genetics, or life experiences. But so often, you’ll hear that some of them are similar, or downright identical.

 

That was not the case here.

 

Chancellor Roderick, a servant of the chantry with a contingent of “loyal” soldiers to his name, was present during the events that transpired at Haven. He, however, was of a bit more haste in putting the person responsible to the sword.

 

Problem was, he did not have much to go on, regarding the visage of the supposed criminal. All he knew was that the culprit was a dark haired, male mage. And given their current status in Thedas, he was convinced it was all he needed to know.

 

This was the explanation behind the view the Seeker and her charges were granted upon reaching Leliana. Since the description of the character wasn’t clear beyond a vague appearance, he assumed this man would likely be in the hands of the...Hands of the Divine. So he waited. And when the first mage he saw brought to Leliana was in view, he ordered his men to subdue and prepare him for the trip to Val Royeaux.

It was recent enough that Cassandra was present to see Roderick’s men lock the wrong mage -- Adam -- in chains. She increased her pace to meet them before they escorted him away.

“What are you doing?” Cassandra asked the guards, who only looked towards her in response.

 

Roderick was the one to answer. “Taking the perpetrator of this atrocity to Val Royeaux to face execution.” He said with a righteous tone. “Something the Left Hand has difficulty accepting.”

 

Before Cassandra could correct him, Leliana spoke out. “Because killing him before he undoes it serves no one.” She said in haste. But the way she said it, implied that she genuinely believed that only Adam could close the Breach. That he was the man who bore the mark.

Of course, she knew he wasn’t. But in her mind, it was imperative that Roderick -- and anyone else that would follow his actions -- did. And so far, it seemed to be working.

The Left Hand was a master of deception. So much, that she knew how to fool many, while cluing in others around her with only the tone of her voice. But while she succeeded in “telling” Cassandra that this was a ruse ongoing, the Seeker was unable to help beyond staying quiet. She wasn’t the best of liars.

But she was surrounded by those who excelled. Or at the very least, dabbled.

Vess acted first. “Gotta admit, that’s a real stupid move.” She said, while moving up to Adam’s captors.

 

“I’ll not have my intelligence questioned by a coin-driven blasphemer.” Roderick snapped back.

“Yeah, well this ‘coin-driven blasphemer’ understands basics.” Vess countered, and pointed towards the Breach. “He dies before that’s stopped, we all die.”

 

Varric nodded slightly. “She’s got a point. I mean, you can always shine up the axe after the demons are gone, right? He isn’t going anywhere.”

“Best case scenario, he dies fixing the problem.” Bram said with a shrug. “Worst case scenario, he fails. And the demons kill him for the attempt.”

His addition attracted Cassandra’s gaze. Though her face remained neutral to his words, the tone of his voice -- his acceptance of his demise, or at least, his expecting it -- began to worry her. For two reasons.

 

The first reason -- and the most dominant at the time -- was suspected duplicity. It wouldn’t be the first time a sacrifice was made in the name of magic. And it wouldn’t be the first time someone has lied to her to achieve it. Perhaps he was a vessel, or some chosen acolyte carrying out a meager task he knew he’d be killed for. Maybe his antagonizing was intended to invoke a violent response.

The second reason was one that would’ve never made it to her mind, if not for his demeanor when discussing his death -- his reaction, or lack thereof, to the notion that ending this problem may end him as well. It was empathy. A voice at the back of her mind pleaded for her to see this for what it was: he wanted to die, because he felt it was what he deserved.

If he felt that way, why was unclear. And given the urgency of the situation, it was also irrelevant. 

 

Knowing this, Cassandra moved forward, and used the edge of her blade to remove the bindings on Adam’s wrists. “We don’t have time for this.” She said curtly to Roderick and his men. “Go to Haven and take shelter. Or to Val Royeaux to complain -- I don’t care which. But you will not interfere again.”

Roderick began to weigh the pros and cons of retaliating against the Hands of the Devine. And there was no instance here in which doing so would result in victory. Without a word, the chancellor turned on his heel, and left the area, his men trailing behind him.

 

It was through luck that he was out of view when the Breach pulsed again, or he would’ve seen through their ruse. Bram’s brow twitch at the pain. It hurt, but it was becoming manageable.

 

“The soldiers are ahead.” Cassandra informed the group. “If we charge with them, we will reach the temple faster.”

 

“Can we risk it?” Leliana asked. “That is where the fighting is strongest.”

 

“You got a different option?” Vess inquired, to which Leliana pointed to the mountains. “There’s a path there that leads around the frontlines. You could take it to avoid any necessary conflict.”

 

“We lost an entire scouting team on that path, Leliana. It is just as dangerous as charging.”

 

The Breach pulsed again. The pain Bram felt was now becoming more of an annoyance than a hinderance.

 

“Maybe you two want to make a decision before I lose a hand.” Bram said, his teeth nearly clenched together in irritance. The group looked to him. Cassandra approached him.

 

“How do you think we should proceed?” She asked him.

“I didn’t say ask me.” Bram retorted.

“You have the mark.” Solas said, matter of factly. 

“And you are the one we must keep alive.” Cassandra continued. “Since we cannot agree on our own...”

 

Bram lowered and shook his head. He wasted no time in thinking about the situation, and it was intentional; if they were going to make him choose, he would make them pay for it.

 

“Take your men and fight with the soldiers, I’ll deal with the scouts.” He said quickly as he walked towards the mountain path. He was stayed by Cassandra’s hand. “You are not going alone!” She said as she did. 

“Don’t ask me to make a choice if you’re not going to respect it.” Bram said, and looked to her. “I could’ve saved my damn breath.”

She was ready to snap against him for the verbal trap she walked into, but collected herself before she could. She took a breath, then turned to Vess.

 

“Adaar.” She said. “Lead them to the battlefield. I will go with Abraham to search for the scouts.”

 

Vess nodded, and spoke to the group. “You heard her, let’s get going!” She said, and moved straight ahead. Bram did not wait for the others to depart to do so himself, and was out of their view before long, as was the seeker.

 

They came upon an abandoned mining complex. The mountain path ended at the foot of the construct, so for all intents and purposes, the scouts would have gone through here. Two ladders were scaled to meet the entrance, but before they entered, the aura of a wraith had passed through it. The sight alerted the two would-be rescuers, who took cover beside the entrance.

 

“There will be more.” Cassandra said, her hand on the hilt of her sword.

“Your grasp of the obvious is inspiring.” Bram said flatly. 

 

Cassandra intended to address his dislike for her after closing the Breach. But that last jab forced her hand.

 

“Whatever your issues are with me...” Cassandra said while staring at the back of his head. “You need to put them aside.”

“What do you think I’m doing?” Bram said, while scanning the entrance.

“Not putting it aside.” Cassandra answered back.

 

“You can still see me, right?” Bram asked rhetorically. Cassandra nearly didn’t grasp what he meant.

“If my issues with you were enough to distract me,” Bram continued. “you wouldn’t be able to find me.”

 

The standoffish mage pointed in the direction in which the wraith went. His eyes never moved.

“In the time it took for you to scold me, two more wraiths passed by. There’s a piece of cloth striped over one of the columns and a smear of blood on one of its corners. So either a shade’s dead, or one of your scouts are. The bow sitting next to it -- and the hand still attached to it -- suggest the latter. The markings on the floor suggest terror demons, too. Possibly more than one.”

Bram stood up. “You have a shield. Deal with the wraiths. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Cassandra called for the mage to stop, but the command fell on deaf ears. Her sword was barely unsheathed before Bram felled the first shade he saw, but it wasn’t until the second’s killing that the other demons were alerted. By that point, Cassandra was ready to attack, but found herself in a position to defend.

The three wraiths came back, intending to blast the mage to oblivion. Before they could, Cassandra put herself in the line of fire, and deflected the blasts with her shield. She closed the distance between them within the onslaught, and drove her blade through the chest of the nearest wraith when she got close enough. The rest split into different directions to flank her, but the Seeker’s reflexes were more than quick enough to dodge the incoming fire.

By this time, a third shade had met its end. Bram turned quickly to view the talons of a terror demon coming down upon him. Before it struck, its hand was held in place by the mage’s own, while his free hand, enhanced by magic, was sent into the demon’s gut, puncturing it in the process. In the next second, the contents of its stomach exploded, leaving its entire lower half a gory mass on the floor. Its upper half -- now lifeless -- was used as a bludgeon for the three demons that surged his way.

Only the second terror dodged it, by way of teleportation. The shades that followed it was knocked back by the body, before it dissolved into nothing.

 

The wraiths resolved to a continuous energy assault while they gained ground on Cassandra, to keep her from moving from cover while they descended on it. Her response was resolute; when one got close enough, she placed her palm on the base of its skull, and a blinding flash of light dissipated it instantly. The light then formed into a beam, and shot straight through the second assailant, doing the same to it as well.

 

Cassandra’s next goal was to help fight off the demons that were attacking Bram. But by the time she had eyes on his location, he was already in the process of slaying the final demon. In a particularly gruesome fashion.

Bram’s hand had broken through the razor sharp teeth that aligned its gaping maw, and was currently crushing what passed for its neck. The amount of force the mage was applying was enough draw blood and bone, and the terror demon, ironically, was terrified.

As it fumbled to break free, Bram’s free hand encased itself in burning stone. One final shriek was heard before his fist drove straight through its skull, rendering it limp. Cassandra grimaced in reaction, and the body disintegrated soon after.

With the demons dead, shouting could be heard from the exit of the structure. “Get back!” were the first words made out. Bram turned to the seeker in silence, checking to see if she had heard the same thing he did. He got his answer by Cassandra’s breaking into a sprint towards the point of origin.

 

The seeker emerged from the complex to see a lone woman defending the scouts from a swarm of shades. Numerous as they were, they could not break her resolve.

Armed with only a longsword, the woman drove back the demons with enough tenacity that none made it past her in one piece. But she was visibly exhausted. It was only a matter of time before it became her downfall.

Cassandra was quick to intervene. Luck had gifted her with a spear within her reach, and aim true enough slay one of the attackers, breaking their focus and their ranks. The distraction was enough for the lone woman to fell the remaining demons with a single stroke.

And she was allowed a reprieve; before more could come through, Bram had forced the rift closed.

 

The woman dropped to her knees, out of breath. The clattering of the longsword rang through the ears of everyone present. “Maker...” She uttered through breaths. “I...I thought that was the end of me.”

 

“You did well.” Cassandra said, and nodded to the downed woman. When she regained her composure -- and most of her breath -- the woman began to question the seeker’s presence. “Why...ahem...You’re not with the soldiers? They need you there.”

 

“Says the woman damn near dead.” Bram said, and walked past the two to the broken temple ahead of them. The woman stood up, and the scouts approached the two of them soon after.

 

“The way back is clear.” Cassandra said to the woman. “Take the scouts and retreat before that changes.”

 

“I..I will.” The woman said, and bowed to the Seeker before carrying out her orders. Cassandra then turned to Bram, who had not taken his eyes off the temple since he saw it. When she registered what he was trying to do, Cassandra attempted to fill in the blanks, in the hopes that he would remember something.

 

“That is where our soldiers found you.” Cassandra said, as she approached him. “You can see now, why we were wary of you.” 

 

There was no response. Cassandra moved up to him until she was by his side. Seconds had gone by before she spoke again.

 

“Can you remember now?” She asked.

“No.” He replied.

“Are you lying to me?”

“If I were, do you think I’d say ‘yes’ to that?”

“You aren’t helping your case.”

“And you aren’t paying attention.” Bram said, and finally looked to her. “But I’m going to die soon. So it really doesn’t matter, does it?”

 

With that, Bram left on the path leading to the temple. As he ventured however, he heard Cassandra’s words.

 

“If what I believe is true...Then it does. More than you know.”


	5. Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bram recalls what he lost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a while to put this one up because I was wrestling with the idea of putting down a fight scene. But anyone who's played Inquisition knows how that one plays out, so I decided against it.

Memory

 

* * *

 

 

A human child -- no older than seven -- sat upon the ledge of the highest rise he could find in the wilds. It overlooked a Dalish encampment, which normally spelled trouble for any human within range.

 

It would have for him, had the child not been part of the clan already.

 

The circumstances surrounding his integration was one out of his control, but he knew he owed the clan indefinitely, for had they not taken him in, he would’ve become prey to the beasts in the wilds. It was not a debt they acknowledged however; barring his relative safety, not many wanted anything to do with him. It was knowledge he acquired a few years past, and that knowledge removed him from their social life gradually, until eventually, he stopped talking completely. Most days were spent in self inflicted solitude, with introspection of his life, how it got here, and where it was going. And with his experience, the combined knowledge told him something no child should ever believe of themselves:

 

He was born to a world that would rather see him dead than content.

 

He believed this for two years, possible through neglection and persecution. There’d been no one to show him otherwise until today. But by that point, the damage was already done.

 

A young, female elf -- no older than he was -- approached the ledge where he confined himself. A pouch had been slung over her shoulders, heavy with food and drink. She bore the mark of the Dalish on her face, but those markings paled in comparison to her bright, blue-green eyes.

 

She exhaled heavily, and brushed the bangs from her eyes as she began to speak. “Creators...” She said breathily. “This is very high.” She moved to his side, and scanned the wilds from the edge. “You can see forever from up here.”

 

The boy remained silent. The elf looked to him for a moment, and placed the pouch beside him. “I’m Llynn.” She said as she sat down. There was no response, so she continued on. “You picked a pretty good spot. It’s a great view.”

 

She took a second to take in said view herself, before she looked to him again. “Is this why you come up here? Climb this high whenever we set up?”

 

After a while, the boy muttered with enough pitch that she could hear his answer.

 

“No one else comes here.”

 

The answer was mildly insulting. But given what she’d seen of him, she felt sympathy more than anything else.

 

“I never caught your name.” She went on. “I’m pretty sure it’s not shemlen.”

 The boy did not answer. Llynn shrugged, and a small smile crept upon her face. “I guess I could call you _Nedan Shemlen_.” She said with barely contained light laughter. “I think Nedan’s elven for ‘lost.’ I don’t know. But it’ll sound like you have a name, right?”

 

The boy shrugged. And at this point, Llynn noticed that since her arrival, he had not made eye contact with her, opting to look anywhere else but where she was.

 

So she chose to annoy him a bit.

 

“Well, Nedan...” She said, and opened the pouch. “I got tired climbing up here. Can’t imagine what it’s going to be like climbing back down.”

 

She set out the contents of the pouch before him and took a piece of bread for herself.

 

“We should probably get some energy for when we go back, right? Be silly if we ended up tumbling down the path. How will I explain that to the hunters? ‘Hi, I’m Llynn. I want to become you, but I can’t get through the wilds without falling on my arse.’ “

 

“If I eat, will you stop talking?” The boy said. What she got was still insulting, but the fact that he said anything was a victory for her, so she nodded with a smile.

 

“No promises.” She said. The boy took a piece of bread for himself.

 

“You know, everyone thinks you’re trouble.” Llynn said after finishing a bite. “But they’re just scared really. More of what the outsiders would think if they saw you with us. A shem in a Dalish camp? They’d probably think we kidnapped you or something -- holding you for ‘transgressions against our people.’ Can’t really blame them though.”

 

It was at this point that she caught a scar that adorned the boy’s left shoulder. The boy noticed it, and clothed the scar so as to keep her from talking about it.

 

But of course he failed. “That a bite mark?” Llynn asked. And against his better judgement, he responded.

 

“Wolf.” he answered.

 

“Huh.” Llynn said, chuckling a bit. “I assume the wolf got the worst of it?”

 

The boy did not respond, and instead took a bite of the bread offered.

 

“Guess now you know you can defend yourself, should the Dread Wolf come for you.” Llynn joked. “Kind of like my parents. They’re hunters too.”

 

“Do you have family?”

 

Whatever she said afterwards was drowned out by the boy’s inner thoughts.

It wasn’t her fault that she didn’t know the answer to that question, Or rather the circumstances surrounding his joining the clan. She was told that he’d been lost in the wilds. What his guardians failed to mention -- and what the other elven children had cruelly revealed to the boy two years prior -- was that he’d been abandoned; left as food for beasts of nature.

Said revelation would’ve been difficult but easy to work through had his surrogate family wanted him. At best, he was a burden. At worst, he was a threat. The elder’s refrained from openly stating this to the boy...But to him, the signs were clear as day.

Knowing that he was a mage -- and therefore feared among his own kind as well -- did not help matters. Before he knew, he imagined running from the clan when he got the chance, to find a way to join his own people and live out some modicum of happiness. But he knew what became of those discovered to be mages within human society.

So when he discovered he was one as well, whatever plans he had to leave was crushed as quickly as his spirit.

What Llynn thought to be a harmless question took him on a journey of despair -- recollections of his life and the knowledge he obtained far too early to deal with. He stared disconsolately into a breathtaking void, and continued to do so until Llynn’s voice rang back in.

 

“...But they took care of it.” Llynn said. “ _Tath bellanaris sul elvar'nas_ , they said.”

 

The boy shook his head, and looked to her. “Thank you for the food. I appreciate it...But I’m not your friend.”

He set his piece of bread back where he took it, and got up to leave.

 

“Whatever it is you’re looking for, I’m not it.”

 

* * *

 

“Bring forth the sacrifice.” was heard throughout the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. Bram and Cassandra had long since rejoined the bulk of the forces and were descending the ruins to get closer to the Breach.

Adam was the first to break the silence. “You guys heard that right?” he said, turning to his comrades as they continued down.

“We did.” Vess confirmed, and cocked her head forward. “Keep moving.”

 

“We’re not going to talk about it?” Adam questioned. But got no answer, as Varric had pointed out another problem.

“Red lyrium, Seeker.” he said, though Cassandra chose to keep her pace.

“I see it.” she said, her attention on the rift they were approaching.

 

“But what’s it doing here?” Varric asked, though his answer came from Solas instead.

“The breach --” The elf began, “ or the demons within -- might have tampered with the lyrium. Corrupted it.”

“It’s trouble.” Varric warned. “Whatever you do, don’t touch it.”

 

The group eventually made it to ground zero, and stood circled around the rift they came to close. Before any orders came however, another voice rang out.

“Someone, help me!” the voice cried. It was a voice Cassandra knew well.

“That was Divine Justinia’s voice.” she said. And as she did, a brief vision surged forward, clear for all to see.

 

In it, shadowy figures stood circled around an elongated creature and a levitated, robed figure -- possibly the sacrifice the voices alluded to. There was a large door on the far side of the ritual, and from them, another figure crept through.

“The hell...?” it said. Its words were short, and it was a voice that few could place, save for Adam and Cassandra. The seeker looked to Bram, who was more focused on visage than most.

The creature noticed his presence and immediately called it out. “Intruder!” it shouted. But before it could order his execution, the elevated figure swatted something. And the instant it did, the rift surged, and the visage exploded.

 

And thus, Cassandra began with her questions. “What happened?” she said to Bram. When she received no response, she moved in front of him and continued on.

“What. Happened?” she enunciated. “We heard your voice. It was you who came through that door, wasn’t it? Who attacked? And Divine Justinia, is she...?”

Bram’s eyes trailed to the ground since the visage’s explosion, and he found himself in deep thought. Cassandra’s voice was drowned out by his own attempts to piece together what happened. But she did not know, and thus assumed that he was intentionally withholding information. And it infuriated her.

She grabbed him by the vest he wore and jolted his attention to her. “ANSWER ME, DAMN IT!” she demaned, but was rewarded with nothing Before she could continue, the rift surged again and took the seeker’s attention away from Bram.

 

“Echoes of what happened here.” Solas said as he viewed the rift, answering Cassandra in place of the suspect. “The fade bleeds into this place.”

The seeker’s attention shifted to him as he continued. “The rift is not sealed but it is closed...albeit temporarily. I believe that with the mark, the rift can be opened, and then sealed properly and safely.”

He then turned towards her. “However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side.”

She nodded, and then turned to the rest of the group. “That means demons.” She said to them. “Stand ready!”


	6. Word Unbroken

_“The prisoner failed, seeker.”_

 

“I do not believe that.”

 

“ _Why?_ Because he claims to want to help? Many a deceiver would say the same. How do you know this wasn’t the intent?”

 

“You did not see what we saw.”

 

_“And who, pray tell, is at fault for that?”_

 

“I am, Chancellor. And if given the chance, I would be again. You are no soldier.”

 

“What I am is a loyal servant to the divine. Something you refuse to be.”

 

If there was one trait Cassandra could guess of Roderick, it was an innate ability to drag an argument past its expiration date. She had gone back and forth with the man since the threat at the temple was subdued, and was long since exhausted with doing so. Leliana was also present, but remained quiet for the majority of the event. Her silence was broken the instant Adam -- the perceived deciever -- had entered the room.  
“Ah, the man of the hour.” Roderick said with feigned enthusiasm. He soon reverted to his true notions. “Chain him.” he said to the guards accompanying him. “I want him prepped for the trip to Val Royeaux.”

Of course, he outranked no one that he disagreed with, so the order was quashed as soon as it was given.

“Disregard that,” Cassandra countered. “And leave us.”

 

Roderick shook his head slowly as the soldiers departed. “You walk a dangerous line, seeker.” He said to Cassandra. “People will hear of this.”

The thinly veiled threat did nothing to shake Cassandra’s resolve. She took a step toward him, and as she did, Roderick took one back, his face masking the brief fear that she was about to strike him. But to his relief, she only spoke. “The breach is stable, but it is still a threat.” She reminded him sternly. “I will **not** ignore it.”

“So what do we do about it?” Adam asked. But before Cassandra could answer, Roderick cut her off.

“You have done plenty enough!” Roderick said. “You should not be allowed to --”

_“Meddle further?”_ Leliana finished for him. Roderick turned to her with a loss for words, giving her the time to continue on. “The same could be said of you, Chancellor.”

 

“What are you on abo--”

“I don’t think you understand the severity of what you implied. That Trevelyan could be playing the long game, so to speak. We have already vetted him." Leliana motioned towards Adam. "But we have not vetted you.”

 

_“I am a suspect?”_ Roderick said with narrowed eyes, and a shocked tone.

“You, and many others.” Leliana replied.

“But the man present,” Roderick went on, pointing at Adam as he did. “A mage, who was the only one to walk from the destruction that claimed everyone else, including our beloved Divine... _Is not a suspect!?_ ”

“No.” Cassandra said. “He is not.”

Roderick, angered by the accusations hurled at him, took a breath to collect himself. His teeth clenched just before he spoke.

“That is not for you to decide.” He said.

 

In the time it to for Roderick to regain his composure, Cassandra removed herself from the discussion. It was only a small moment before she returned with a tome at her side, heavy enough to echo throughout room once it was slammed onto the table. It caught Roderick’s attention, as Cassandra thought it would.

“You know what this is, Chancellor.” She began. “A writ from the divine, granting us the authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn.”

Roderick’s eyes remained on the tome until after she finished, after which he looked up to her. He was not surprised to see her staring back at him.

“We will close the breach,” Cassandra said, nearly enunciating each word. “we will find those responsible, and we will restore order. With or without your approval.”

Roderick knew the writ was genuine. He imagined before that such a writ would’ve already been in their possession, in the event that something like this occured. In another situation, he might’ve even encouraged using it. But all he could see now was two of the Divine’s most trusted using her failsafe to shelter her murderer. And there was nothing he could do about it. At least, not here. Knowing this, he shook his head, and quickly exited the room, intent on spreading the knowledge of what just transpired.

 

An action that Cassandra, Leliana and Adam anticipated.

“I’m guessing we just lost chantry support?” Adam said rhetorically as he watched the chancellor leave. He then turned to the Hands. “Not for nothing, it’ll be justified when they find out I’m not who you said I was.”

“I’ll handle it.” Leliana assured him. “In the meantime...”

“Summon Abraham.” Cassandra said. “He needs to know what is happening.”

 

The mage Roderick's scrutiny should have been saved for, to the best of the Hands' knowledge, was left in a hut to be tended to by an apothecary and an elf, on occasion. Vess was instructed to guard it, in case any of the civilians still blamed him for the destruction.  
By the time Adam got there, she was conversing with the rest of her company. He decided to bypass informing her and entered the hut himself to give Bram the news.  
It was at this point that he found himself glad that he decided not to talk to Vess, because Abraham was no longer there.

 

\-----

 

Instead, he was in the ruins of the Temple of Sacred Ashes, searching for signs of life for his friend. He was crouched upon the epicenter of the blast when Adam found him.

 

The answer to the question of how was empathy. Adam correctly guessed that Bram did not accept Llynn's "death," and was working toward tracking her down. He could not account for how long he was absent from Haven -- therefore, also how long he'd been searching -- but he assumed it was long enough; the time it took for him to get to the temple was relatively moderate.

 

He also correctly guessed that Bram anticipated his arrival. So he did not bother with theatrics.

 

"You're not going to find anything, you know." Adam said. Bram took a pinch of ash, and rubbed it between his fingers, allowing it to slowly fall back to ground. "Came all this way to tell me that?" Bram asked rhetorically.

"Somehow, I get the suspicion that telling you you're wasting your time would wasting my own, so..." Adam answered.

"Then why make the trip?" Bram said, while still scanning the area.

"Because, as hard as it may be for you to believe, I don't want them to kill you."

 

"Yeah?" Bram said half-heartedly, rose from his position, and looked toward Adam. "Thanks for that, but they won't get the chance."  
He then took himself leftward to a destroyed doorway, and continued his search. Adam followed.

"So you plan on taking on a small army?" Adam asked incredulously. "They have templars you know."

"Noted." Bram said. He then stopped halfway through the wreckage, turned to Adam, and raised his hand to him, intended to correct him. "And don't say that. It implies that I intend to fight them."

"You don't?" Adam asked.

"Obviously not."

"But you'll strike them down if it comes to it."

"They come at me with swords and arrows, they'll be met with it." Bram said, and resumed his search. "Don't want to lose men, don't send them."

"It's not that simple Bram, and you know it!"

 

It was at this point that Bram stopped, and fully turned to Adam. His brows were furrowed, and his eyes squinted. "Why do you keep calling me that?" He asked.

Adam shrugged lightly. "They needed a name."

"Exactly." Bram pointed out. "They. They are not here, and you know that's not my name. "

"Call it ease, then." Adam said. "It's a lot shorter than saying 'The Mage with No Name,' or something as demeaning as 'Prisoner,' 'Human,' 'Mage' or 'Shemlen.' "

"Any of those titles would've been right."

"So what, you'd rather I'd call you that?" Adam asked, confused. "To them?"

"Well, you wouldn't be lying then." Bram shrugged, turned from him, and walked on.

 

His answer the question perplexed Adam, mostly because he wasn't expecting it to be answered. Not vocally, at least.

But once that hurdle was completed, he found himself wondering why Bram preferred a bare description of himself than something dignifying to those he'd have to work with. One answer was because he didn't intend to, but another, he proposed, was because he did not hold himself in high regard. He theorized that it was a method of self-deprecation, something ingrained from an event he knew nothing of. Or perhaps it was. Maybe it was gained from being born a mage.  
He didn't know. And he did not want to word his eventual question in a way that would suggest it.

When Adam caught up to Bram, the nameless mage was observing what Adam saw to be debris. He didn't want to ask him why that was, lest he forget the question he wanted to ask. So he asked the question he wanted to ask.

 

"Do you care at all?" Adam said. The question did not phase Bram.

"About your mission?" He replied as he examined. "You don't know the answer to that?"

_"About yourself."_ Adam corrected him. Bram let out an inaudible sigh, shook his head, and moved onto a fragment of a statuette.

 

"Your life does have meaning, Bram. It has value." Adam went on. He intended to keep on, before Bram interrupted him.

"Still calling me that, huh?" Bram said under his breath before raising it. "My silence was not your answer."

"Wasn't it?" Adam went on. "Llynn told me what happened to you."

"Yeah? What happened to me?"

"You were banished from the Lavellan Clan, Bram. For something out of your control."

 

That line stopped him. Bram was unaware that his trials were gossip for Llynn and Adam. He nodded slightly, and looked to the floor.

"Gonna have to have a chat with her when I find her." He said aloud, which prompted Adam to continue on.

"Look, I understand rejection, and that dealing with it is difficult, but--"

 

"I was wolf meal. Did she tell you that?"

 

Adam was taken aback.

 

"Or Spider meal, or bear meal. Point is, shortly after being born, my parents left me in the forest for the wild to consume me."

Bram turned to Adam, and began walking toward him.

"I was picked up by a hunting party gathering materials for a journey. They found a pack of wolves circling me and scattered them. Half the crew wanted to correct the mistake and just leave me there, but I guess they lost the vote."

Bram stopped seven feet away from Adam.

"Might've lived with them for a while, but I was never a Lavellan, and they made sure I knew it. For all intents and purposes, I was always alone. So I just lived with it."

Bram raised his right hand, and encased it in flame for a while before dissipating it.

"This didn't help." Bram continued. "Since I was human, I was never accepted by the people who rescued me. And because I was a mage, I was never going to be left alone by the people who birthed me. Exile was an inevitability. Learned this when I was five, got 'banished' when I was ten."

Bram looked to his right, and began scanning the walls and wreckage for more clues.

"From then on in, it's just been me. Llynn visited, but never stayed. Eventually I knew I was gonna have to take on more than just what the clan taught me, so I studied anything I could to make sure I'd make it on my own. It was during that time that I managed to wrap my mind around my situation. That I finally understood who I was, what I was, where I'd been born, and why I'd always be persecuted."

Bram looked to Adam.

 

"I am a man with no name. I am a human mage. I was born in Thedas, a world that will always view me with suspicion, anger and fear, because of what I could do. And I'm at peace with it."

"I have no ambitions, no goals, no friends. I'm perfectly content with living my life the way I had been living it before Llynn showed up at my door. It's peaceful. Almost ironically tranquil."

"And if there is anything I value, it's my word. I told Llynn I'd watch over her for the remainder of her time here, and until I'm certain she's dead, I'm going to keep looking for her, so that I can take her back to her clan."

 

"And if it turns out that she's gone?" Adam asked.

"I'm leaving, either way." Bram answered. "My promise was to a Dalish Elf, not to a religion I don't follow."

Bram moved to the point he'd been when Adam first caught up to him. His gaze was centered out of the temple, into a distance away from Haven.

 

"And should said religion decide I should die for that, then I hope they bring that small army." Bram said. "They may very well need it, 'cause I'm dying on my terms."

 

With that, Bram began to depart.

"Take comfort, Adam. You've got something to gossip about." Bram said as he walked away. "If Llynn's dead, you're the only one in the world that knows anything about me."

"Bram!" Adam called out to him. _" **BRAM!"**_

But he didn't listen, and was soon gone.

 

\-----

 

When Adam returned to Haven, the village was on high alert. The Hands had just learned of Abraham's absence, and dispersed men across the area to find him. Adam ventured back through the gates, and stepped into view of the hut everyone intially assumed Abraham was in.

Standing in front of him, visibly enraged, was Cassandra. The second she laid eyes on him, she marched forward, as if she intended to strike him. The sight caused Adam to take few steps back, though the pace the Seeker took was well enough to account for it.

Once she was within striking range, she grabbed a hold of his collar and forced him against a wall. **"WHERE IS HE!?"** She shouted.

And Adam, defeated, answered her.

 

"...I don't know."


End file.
